


I Couldn't Help It; It's All Your Fault

by Dresupi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Banter, Cutesy, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Love, One Shot, Romantic Fluff, Sarcasm, Snark, Steve Rogers has a Potty mouth, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26093542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: All the reasons Darcy loves Steve.  Aside from the obvious ones, of course.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
Comments: 44
Kudos: 191
Collections: Dresupi's Shieldshock Fics





	I Couldn't Help It; It's All Your Fault

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlynnisIsta8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlynnisIsta8/gifts).



> So, so, so long ago, literal years, in fact, GlynnisIsta8 prompted me for some Fluffy Shieldshock with the prompt "relationship goals", and this is the result.
> 
> I'm so incredibly sorry for the wait, a whole crapton of life happened. :( 
> 
> Anyway, it's done now, and I hope you like it! <3
> 
> _Title from "Head Over Feet" by Alanis Morissette_
> 
> Bonus graphic for you too: Enjoy!  
> 

“Hey, you ready to go, Darce?” 

Darcy blinked, her eyes felt a little sticky and dry from staring at the computer screen for as long as she had been. With Janey gone to some unskippable, yet very necessary, convention and the energy meters flying off the charts on the drone they had roaming the desert in New Mexico, Darcy had her hands full. Or her eyes, rather. It was her eyes that were full of readings and the inexplicably bare expanse of desert. 

Someone from another realm had landed. And there had to be proof somewhere. 

Of course, it was likely just Sif, who showed up every now and again to help SHIELD out with a few intergalactic issues. And considering she hadn’t heard anything from old Son-of-Coul, Darcy was inclined to blow it off. 

It didn’t mean that it wasn’t someone else. Like Jane’s boy toy coming by for an unannounced visit, even though it’d be weird if he showed up in New Mexico now that he had a set place he met Jane. But Thor wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. 

It could also be Loki. Or someone else of equal annoyance. 

Therefore, just because it was likely nothing didn’t mean she wasn’t going to give it the old college try for Jane, because there was no doubt that her boss would want every boring detail of what happened, even if it turned out to be nothing at all. 

Of course, now that her hunk-of-burning-muscle was here, she was more inclined to leave than to stare at a screen at nothing. Especially when it was getting dark. 

Steve was standing politely by the counter, a small smile on his face while he looked at her expectantly. 

“Five more minutes?” she offered. In exchange for nothing other than his good faith. Of course, he had a lot of that to go around, so she wasn’t too worried. “I just have to set this to keep recording while I’m gone.” 

“You’ve said that six times already. C’mon, Lewis. I made dinner.” 

Okay, there was _no way_ she’d said that six times. There was no way Steve had been here that long, she’d have noticed. She’d have at least smelled his aftershave. She inhaled deeply, realizing that she might have actually been sitting there longer than she thought. The scent was heavy in the air like he’d been there a while. Oops. 

Steve also wasn’t one to wax hyperbolic, so it was either a paradox, or he really had been standing here for a while. 

The behavior totally tracked with her, so it wasn’t completely outside the realm of plausibility. 

Paradoxes were definitely above her pay grade, so she quickly set up remote-recording on the drone, along with a line of code so it would ping her phone if anything interesting happened. 

Or anything uninteresting but different. 

Hopefully, it wouldn’t, though. 

“Dinner, huh? What kind of dinner?” 

“The grown-up kind. The kind where I had to watch a Youtube video just to execute correctly. And there’s a cake, too. And salad. So I guess it’s a three-course dinner.” 

“Cake, you say?” Darcy gave the program another once over before closing her laptop and shooting him a very hungry-for-cake look. Well, she was hungry for something, and it might as well be cake. He arched an eyebrow and she sighed. “Fine, I suppose I could leave. For the cake.” 

Steve laughed. “Don’t make me twist your arm or anything, sweetheart. If you’d rather stare at your screen, I wouldn’t stop you.” 

As if he’d have to. She loved that about him. That he could even entertain the idea that he’d have to twist her arm to get her to go anywhere with him. 

“Nah, I’m coming freely. Of my own volition. So long as I get to eat cake off of my boyfriend later.” She rose from her seat and grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. 

She didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was turning red at the thought of her licking buttercream frosting out of his belly button. 

“You gotta boyfriend?” he sniffed. “Can’t imagine who that poor soul is. Who’d even _have_ you, Lewis?” He was grinning the whole time, so his sarcasm was readily apparent. Captain of sass as well as America. And ass. Captain Sassy Ass America. 

“Some dumb ass with more muscle than brains,” she countered, smirking up at him. 

“Hey,” he checked her shoulder. “Watch it. I’ve been known to use both when cornered.” 

“Who said anything about _you_ , Rogers? Did that ego come baked right in, or was it slapped on you with the shield?” 

He slid his hand into hers and abruptly stopped walking, beaming as she spun smoothly into his arms, his other hand coming up to push her hair behind her ear. “Doesn’t matter. You love my ego.” 

“That what we’re calling it?” 

“I thought we were calling it cake,” he retorted. 

He was right. She loved his ego. Or more accurately, how absolutely positive he was that she loved him. No doubts in his mind at all. Not that she ever gave him a reason to think that. Even with their banter, she tried to sneak it in there. Dude had a smart mouth, but he deserved unabashed love as much as the next guy. More than the next guy, if you asked her. 

She rose on her tiptoes so she could kiss him. One hand slid around to the back of his head. She might have done it to shut him up, but that wasn’t to say there wasn’t something in it for her. 

Shutting Steve up like this was her favorite thing in the entire world. And he had a big mouth, so she got to do it all the time. 

He hummed against her lips and exhaled when she broke off the kiss, licking her lips and stepping back, her hand still in his. “So what awesome deed did I do to deserve both dinner _and_ cake?” she asked as they strolled to the elevators. “What has qualified me for practical sanctification, hmm?” 

“The right answer is that you’re you,” he informed her. “And you deserve both dinner and cake all the time, but I’m not a perfect guy, and this is definitely because of yesterday morning.” The double meaning in his voice was obvious, and she couldn’t help but giggle at his tone. 

Darcy grinned as they stepped into the elevator. “Refresh my memory.” 

“FRIDAY’s gonna hear and you know Tony keeps all these conversations in public spaces,” he hissed, leaning down to kiss her cheek. 

“So let’s give him something for his collection,” she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “Tell me what I did yesterday. Use lots of colorful adjectives, too, Captain Potty Mouth.” 

He kissed her instead. Because the kissing to shut the other person up worked both ways. 

Darcy leaned into him and his back hit the side of the elevator. 

It worked _very well_ both ways. 

“Please choose the floor where you’d like to travel, Captain Rogers.” FRIDAY didn’t sound any different than she usually did, but if Darcy didn’t know better, she’d say she detected a little bit of a sheepish tinge in the AI’s tone. 

“Oops,” Darcy giggled. 

“Just take us to my floor, FRIDAY. My apologies.” 

“It’s really no problem, Captain.” 

He turned back to her. “You see that? You’re a menace.” 

“I know you are, but what am I?” 

He chuckled and ducked down to kiss her noisily before releasing her once more. “A menace.” 

She smiled and moved a total of two steps away from him, leaning against the handrail. “Shameless flatterer, that’s what you are,” Darcy teased. “So it’s _your_ floor now?” 

He exhaled loudly. “Yes. Because you won’t officially move in with me. So I can’t call it _our_ floor, now can I?” 

“Dunno why you’d want a menace living with you, anyway.” 

“Because I’m also a menace and we are great together,” he replied. The elevator stopped on his floor, and he stepped out, Darcy following closely behind. “Plus all your shit’s already there anyway.” 

She sniffed. “Pfft. Not. Even. Close, Steven Grant.” 

“Way even close, Darcy Anne,” he countered. “You’re a regular fucking packrat.” 

“And you’re a regular potty mouth.” 

He smirked. “You love me this way.” 

She rolled her eyes as he strolled over to the kitchen. Whatever he was cooking smelled wonderful. Not like she was expecting anything else. She did love him, potty mouth and all. Not that she was going to give him the satisfaction right now. He got sweet talk when he gave it. Of course, their back-and-forth _was_ sweet talk. To them, anyway. So maybe she’d give him a little. 

She reached out to boldly squeeze his ass as she walked past him to the fridge. Okay, so the ‘little’ she gave him came in the form of an ass grab while she was on her way to grab a bottle of water, but he appreciated it if that heated look he shot her over his shoulder was any indication. 

“What’s for dinner?” she asked, unscrewing the cap on her water. “Nothing good, probably.” 

“Well, I made pasta,” he replied, motioning to the electric mixer with the pasta roller attachment plugged in. There were strands of fresh pasta hanging all over it. “Just gotta cook it.” 

She raised her eyebrows, actually impressed. “So when you say you ‘made pasta’, you actually made it.” 

“Of course I did,” he shot her a grin. 

“Don’t know if you knew this or not, but you’re kind of awesome, Steve.” 

He didn’t answer, but his smile widened as he ran water into a large pasta pot and placed it on the stove, turning on the eye and standing back to wait for it to boil. 

“What’s going on this homemade pasta?” Darcy asked. 

He cracked open the oven door, revealing a casserole dish with what looked like chicken breasts. They smelled amazing, and as a result, her mouth started watering immediately. “Chicken Piccata.” 

“Chicken Piccata?” Darcy repeated. “Holy shit, you weren’t joking. That is a YouTube-worthy recipe.” 

“I even bought capers,” Steve said, smiling proudly as he started slicing a lemon. “Just go on out there and have a seat.” 

“I can’t sit out here and watch?” Darcy asked. 

He met her gaze for a moment and shook his head. “Nope. Gotta go out and sit down. I’ll bring you some wine in a sec.” 

“Wine too? Now I know I don’t deserve that.” 

“Doll, you deserve the moon, but I forgot to grab a piece of it the last time I was in outer space.” 

“When were you _ever_ in outer space?” she asked, giggling a little and peeking back around the corner just in time to see him duck into the fridge. He reemerged with a bottle of white, reaching for a glass and bringing it out to her. 

“I’ve been to outer space,” he replied defensively. “Couple of times.” 

“Bull,” she said, taking the bottle and glass from him before making her way to the table. “You’re pulling my leg, Cap.” 

“Why would I do that? I think I’ve already impressed you enough with the Chicken Piccata.” 

She popped the cork and poured herself a glass. It was a pinot grigio she recognized from the last time he’d cooked for her. It tasted just as good now as it had then. 

“I mean, you’re not wrong. You leave me pretty flabbergasted most days if I’m being honest.” 

“That makes two of us.” 

“You’re flabbergasted by yourself?” she teased. “Yeah, that tracks.” 

“ _Darce_ ,” he protested. “You know what I meant.” 

She picked up and moved to another seat. Not her usual one, but she could peer into the kitchen and watch his back while he cooked. 

Even with the boiling water, he didn’t look like he was perspiring at all. Which wasn’t fair. She couldn’t recall a time where she’d seen him get winded. She’d seen him in quite a few positions where any other dude would have been sweating like crazy, so… 

“I love you, Steve.” 

He stopped for a long moment. “Love you too. But I gotta ask what did it for you _that_ time.” 

“I can’t just love you?” 

He peered over his shoulder, grinning. “Nope. Gotta have a reason.” 

“You aren’t sweating.” 

His brow knit. Not that she could see from behind him, but she assumed it did by the way his neck and ears looked. “I mean… that’s true. So I guess that… no that makes zero sense, doll. You gotta give me more.” 

“You aren’t sweating. That’s my reason today. Nothing you do ever makes you winded.” 

“Oh, I get winded.” 

“I’ve never seen you get winded,” she countered. 

“I get winded, you just aren’t in a position to see me when I do.” He peered over his shoulder again. His smile made her belly flutter just a little. 

He was stirring one pot when he set the spoon down and picked up the pasta pot to strain it. “You hungry, babe?” 

“I’m starving,” she replied. 

“Good, because I think this is ready.” 

He plated everything up and brought it out. “That where you’re sitting?” he asked. 

“No, I was just sitting here so I could stare at you.” 

“Weirdo,” he quipped, sliding her plate into her usual spot and then taking his seat in his. 

They ate in silence for a few moments, but only because the chicken tasted just as mouth-watering as it smelled. 

Darcy sipped at her wine and took another bite, chewing as she chose her next words very carefully. Not because she thought he’d take them the wrong way or anything, but because she wanted to make sure they sounded sexy and not stupid. 

“So like… what are the odds of just clearing the table and letting you have me for dessert?” 

His cheeks pinked up when she said it. That was another thing she loved about him. He had a mouth like a sailor, or a little shit from Brooklyn, whichever was worse, but he still blushed when she brought up sex. Specifically, _her_ sex. Even more specifically, his affinity for a certain part of her anatomy. 

“I’d say they’re pretty high, except I thought you wanted cake,” he said, twirling some pasta on his fork and popping it into his mouth, he looked up at her as he chewed, his blue eyes dark and dangerous-looking. 

Darcy took her bottom lip between her teeth for a long moment before twirling her pasta on her fork as well. “I mean, I do. But I assume that cake is going to be just as decadent if I let you have dessert first?” 

“You’re not wrong…” he replied slowly. “Except with the way you’re headed, you’re not going to get to finish dinner either, and I spent a lot of time on this.” 

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll keep it in my pants long enough to enjoy this sinful Chicken Piccata that my awesome boyfriend made for me.” She rolled her eyes and sighed in an overly dramatic way. 

The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “I love you, Darcy.” 

“I know,” she replied, winking and spearing a piece of chicken. 

“Wow. You Han Solo’d me.” 

“Yup, guess that explains our dynamic, don’t it, Princess?” 

His smirk stretched into a grin and he laughed. “I’ll happily be the Princess Leia to your Han Solo, Darcy.” 

“Don’t you mean ‘stuck up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf-herder?” she asked, twirling more pasta onto her fork. “Seriously, Steve. This stuff is orgasmic.” 

That got him blushing again, and he directed his next reply into his plate, a bit under his breath. “I’ll show you orgasmic.” 

“What was that?” Darcy asked, giggling because she absolutely had heard him. 

“Alright, that’s it.” Steve pushed up from his chair and Darcy did the same, just a few ticks behind him as he closed the distance between them, his hand cupping her jaw as he lowered his mouth to hers. 

She imagined he probably tasted like Chicken Piccata, but so did she, so Darcy didn’t really notice it. It was all she could do to wrap her arms around him and hold on for dear life. He hoisted her up on his front and turned to push her plate to the side. 

Darcy was a little disappointed that he hadn’t shoved it all the way off the table, but then again, she could eat what was left of it later. She giggled into his kiss, mostly at herself, but a little at him too, with the way he was clutching her, she couldn’t exactly take anything off. 

But he wasn’t letting her go, so she wasn’t about to complain. 

His hands eventually found their way to the buttons on her blouse. He’d only managed one button before her phone started going off. The blood rushing in her ears drowned it out for a few rings, but Steve recognized it for what it was. 

“Your phone,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. 

“My phone,” she repeated, kissing him back, chasing him as he backed away. “Oh shit, my phone!” She turned towards her purse where it was still sitting on the counter and Steve stepped away to get it for her. 

She dug through and found her phone, realizing belatedly that it was the remote drone program that was alerting her. 

And an automated message from SHIELD telling her to call Agent Coulson immediately. 

And a few missed texts and calls from Phil himself. 

“Damn,” she said, sighing. 

“I take it you can’t ignore them?” he asked. 

“Can cake wait until I’m finished with this?” she asked. 

“Do you want the cake to wait until you’re finished with this?” he countered. 

“No,” she said with a sigh. 

“Then I can give you some express cake to carry you through the rest of the evening,” he offered, his eyes dancing. 

“Dude. Don’t tease me.” 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he replied, stepping back between her legs and reaching for the button on her jeans. “Let’s see how quick I can be.” 

Warmth flooded her cheeks. She loved that about him too. 

**Author's Note:**

> xoxoxo! Leave me some sugar if you liked it! <3


End file.
